Page 30 of Teaching Roman

“What…the…” My words came out in pants as he started the shower.

“Jalapeños,” he said through gritted teeth. “My hands…”

The situation crystallized instantly. He’d been chopping hot peppers right before he paused for an innocent, carnal appetizer. That’s what I got for interrupting him while he was cooking. We jumped into the shower even though the water was cold and began peeling off clothes. Roman grabbed for the soap, washing his hands and then running it over my backside and between my legs.

“You okay?” he asked, continuing to focus on me. I grabbed the soap and returned the favor.

“I’m fine.” And somehow I was, even as my teeth chattered and my vag burned. It should have been the single most embarrassing moment of my life. But unlike being walked in on by Cassie—twice—right now I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. It spilled out of me and infected Roman. We washed each other, cracking up, and making bad puns under the cold water.

“That was some hot sex,” he said.

“You really light me up,” I added with a laugh.

By the time the fire down below started to quell, our fingers and toes were shriveled and we were stealing quick, happy kisses. Shutting off the water, Roman peeked past the shower curtain.

“Hold on,” he said, jumping out.

I clutched the curtain and watched him disappear into the hall, dripping wet and stark naked. The sight of his tight ass almost made up for the spontaneous combustion. Reappearing he held out a towel.

“Here.” He opened it and draped it around my shoulders as I stepped out. He dried me off before he wrapped his own arms around my waist and buried his face in my hair.

In that moment it didn’t matter that half my body was raw from capsaicin burns. Time slowed down as I caught sight of the mirror, reflecting two people who were so much more together. More than a week. More than a fling. More in every way.

For one moment, I lost myself in the possibility of us. I imagined a future that included him. Not just a relationship—an entire lifetime that stretched past college and medical school and middle age and wrinkles.

Roman’s arms circled my waist. “Do you think you’ll be okay?”

I couldn’t form words. The lump in my throat was too large. Instead I turned on my heels and kissed him with slow, soft lips. I didn’t have an answer for him. I’d glimpsed a destiny which was impossible. It wasn’t what he meant, but somehow it was still what he’d asked. Skin would heal. Would my heart?

When we broke apart, Roman stared down at me, and I saw the same turmoil in his eyes.

“I”— he started, but I kissed him before he could say something we’d both regret. Soon the spell would be broken and I would be called back to my ordinary life in Olympic Falls. We’d made an agreement, and we had to stick to it. I had just gotten out of a long-term relationship. He had his reputation to consider. We both had careers in front of us. I’d be off to med school within the year and he had his dissertation to defend. Landing an associate professor gig meant he could work on his poetry. All I cared about what becoming a doctor. He was poetry and I was practicality. Nothing about us worked.

Roman helped me get dressed, his hands lingering on my thighs as he tugged up my panties and his fingers trailing lightly over my breasts as he helped me with my bra. Thanks to the jalapeño peppers there was no way I was letting him in my treasure trove, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead he brushed aside my hair and kissed my neck.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Yes, but I don’t feel like eating anything hot,” I admitted. Food sounded good. Healthy. But I had a feeling the hollow pit in my stomach wouldn’t be so easy to fill.

“Fair enough. We’ll grab a bite out. It’s safer than allowing me to cook apparently.” His hand dropped to mine and he pulled me toward the kitchen. “I just need to clean up the kitchen.”

But the kitchen was already spotless. The counters were clean, and there was no sign of our ill-fated culinary foray. Aba’s gray head was bent over the sink as she dried a sink. It was the only thing out of place except for a jug of milk. She smiled up at us, and her grin only grew wider as I blushed.

“In the future,” she said in her heavy accent, “milk is best.”

“Best for?” Roman asked. He picked it up and stared as if it might reveal a secret.

She pointed to his pants in response. “For the burning, lover boy.”

“I expecta full report upon my return or whenever you two horn-dogs drag your asses out of bed.” Cassie hitched a tote bag over her shoulder and blew me a kiss.

“Do you want that in essay format?” I asked dryly. She’d made herself an appointment at the hotel spa and ordered me to spend the day having wild sex with Roman.

“I’d prefer Power Point with lots of pictures. Thank you for asking.” She dashed out the door before I could kick her. I had to give it to her. She didn’t seem to mind that I’d hooked up with someone on our girls trip. In fact, she was encouraging it. It made my day date with Roman less stressful.

I’d perfectly scheduled Cassie’s departure and Roman’s arrival, so that the two wouldn’t cross paths. After a quick check in the mirror, in which I took my hair down and put it back up three times, I heard a knock on the door. I tossed the hair tie on the sink. I was already throwing caution to the wind. Who cared about my hair?

He was standing on the patio holding a single red rose, and I took it shyly. How could he make me act like a wanton sex kitten one minute and a school girl the next? Roman Markson was a mystery I was all too eager to investigate.